


Those Silent Moments Together

by PunsBulletsAndPointyThings



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Did I mention fluff?, Don't Wanna Miss a Thing by Aerosmith, Fluff, M/M, Song Inspired, Spiderpool - Freeform, Spideypool - Freeform, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:51:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1388347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late at night, as Peter sleeps, Wade wonders what he did to deserve such happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Silent Moments Together

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. I am making no money from this.  
> This was inspired by the Aerosmith song Don't Wanna Miss a Thing.

In the dark bedroom, the only sound Wade could hear was the soft, steady sound of Peter’s breathing. Lying in their bed, Peter using his chest as a pillow, Wade felt so at peace. More so then he ever did. A small smile was playing across Peter’s plump lips, and he let out a soft sigh, cuddling closer to Wade. The mercenary mimicked the smile, stroking a scarred thumb across the younger man’s cheek. 

What in the world had he ever done to be granted the love someone so wonderful? That was the question Wade asked himself every night as the two lay together; Peter asleep, Wade keeping a silent vigil. How had someone so scarred, ugly, and bad as him, Wade Wilson, ended up with the perfect creature that was Peter Parker? Sometimes, Wade considered the possibility that this, his chosen reality, was nothing more than a dream and that any moment he might wake up to the real world where no of this existed. Those thoughts terrified Wade, and he would pull Peter closer to him and gently kiss the brunet’s closed eyelids, silently thanking every god there was for giving him this chance. 

Other nights, Wade would reason that no, this could not be a dream. No dream could be this perfect. And he would wonder what Peter was dreaming about. Was he dreaming about Wade? About all the things they had done together? All the possibilities that awaited them, together? As selfish as it was, Wade hoped so. That was what he wanted, to be with Peter forever. 

And yet, there was always a part of Wade that was scared. Terrified that one day Peter would wake up and see him. See him for the horrible, scarred monstrosity that Wade knew he was. And then Peter would leave. Wade wasn’t sure he would be able to survive that. So he treasured their time. Every moment he spent with Peter was a precious jewel, every smile, every touch of skin to scarred skin, every slow, soft intake and exhale of breath. Wade had memorized the sound of Peter’s laugh, the way the corners of his hazel eyes creased when he smiled, the small pattern of freckles on the hero’s left shoulder blade, the feel of his soft hair in Wade’s fingers, the steady pulse of Peter’s heart under his scarred and damaged palm. Wade didn’t want to miss a moment, not even to dream of the other man.

So he stayed awake, for as long as he could, just listening to Peter’s breathing, Wade’s own breaths becoming synchronised. He would fight off sleep for as long as possible, taking every last second he could before he succumbed to the soft darkness, only to dream about Peter (and tacos), though the dreams usually paled in comparison to their waking hours together. 

Yawning, Wade pressed a soft kiss to Peter’s forehead, his own eyelids heavy. Tossing a glance in the direction of the digital clock on the side table, Wade checked the time. The glowing red letters, the only source of light in the room, read 2:45. Wade smiled, relaxing back against the pillows, hugging Peter like a teddy bear. 

“Goodnight Baby Boy. I love you.”

And if Wade was woken at 8:00, groggy, incoherent, and alone in bed, to the sounds of a panicked Peter rushing around getting for work because Wade had hit the snooze button three times and “Dammit Wade if I’m late again Jameson is going to kill and so help me I’m dragging you to hell with me!”, then, well Wade could deal with it.


End file.
